


My Cherry Baby (So Are You Drunk or High?)

by TemenCMoth



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Bloodsuckers, M/M, Title Subject to Change
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-17
Updated: 2016-05-03
Packaged: 2018-02-25 20:11:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,913
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2634692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TemenCMoth/pseuds/TemenCMoth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"So are you drunk or high?"</p><p>Oh. This wasn't Geoff. Or Ray. Or Ryan or Jack or any of the- This wasn't anyone he knew. Gavin froze with his mouth and the door ajar.</p><p>Behind the counter was a man who looked about Gavin's age, maybe a little younger. He was almost as pale as the white marble counters, with a few curls poking out from under a green-and-black knit beanie. Under the standard Millie's apron was a nonstandard pink t-shirt and ripped blue jeans partially hidden behind the red trim.</p><p>{They said bloodsuckers couldn't fall in love}</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Messy-Ass Hair and Broke-Ass Nose

It's always been a funnel of warmth, the ice cream shop. Its glass windows scattered the yellowish light of the fluorescents onto the grey pavement, a lake of friendliness in the cool tones of the lamplights and the uninviting concrete. It almost feels as though on some nights, Gavin Free could feel a certain warmth tugging at his gut that he hadn't felt since-

...

That will be discussed later. Let's just say it's been awhile since he felt it.

The shop in question was open 24-hours, for the few lonely or drunk that happened to wander in. Any who wished to reciprocate the always-open embrace of sugary dairy products are welcomed to sink into a booth of squeaky red-and-pink vinyl. The owners, Geoff and Griffon Ramsey, kept Millie's counters spotless and her doors ajar.

On this particular evening, it was Tuesday. On Tuesday, and Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, oftentimes Saturday and sometimes Sunday Gavin Free decided to satisfy his voracious sweet tooth. He also decided a nice, long talk with Geoff over a cone of Chocolate Chip was overdue. (The meeting was today, right? Of course it was. Maybe. No harm in being early.) The tiny tinny of the bell sounded as Gavin opened the door.

"So are you drunk or high?"

Oh. This wasn't Geoff. Or Ray. Or Ryan or Jack or any of the- This wasn't anyone he knew. Gavin froze with his mouth and the door ajar.

Behind the counter was a man who looked about Gavin's age, maybe a little younger. He was almost as pale as the white marble counters, with a few curls poking out from under a green-and-black knit beanie. Under the standard Millie's apron was a nonstandard pink t-shirt and ripped blue jeans partially hidden behind the red trim.

After flexing his incredible powers of deduction to ascertain the fact that this (not at all attractive) man was in fact not a regular server or customer, Gavin tried to use his quicksilver tongue to compensate for his rather long stunned silence. "Er, I uh- neither?" God this guy's eyes were brown, Gavin could tell from the other side of the room. But like, a really pretty warm brown. A captivating brown. He was wearing glasses too, wonder if he has contacts? His eyes would probably be easier to see and _wow_ he had-

"Sup Vav?"

Oh, Ray is here too. Ray Narvaez, the usual graveyard shift employee, was laughing behind his smile. Gavin started and snapped his head away from Mysterious Angry Guy and closed the door.(Oh god he already got a nickname- A _Capitalized Nickname!_ ) He shuffled towards the counter. Ray turned to M.A.G. "For future reference, doing that will probably get you fired."

"Full grown man with a broke-ass nose and messy-ass hair wanders in at 2 A.M.?" Gavin's hand shot to his hair, trying to appear as nonchalant as possible as he desperately tried to pat it down. He wished he could do the same to his nose. "Well, I'll try not to insinuate that our customers are of anything other that exemplary quality again sir." Mysterious Angry Guy leaned on the counter and looked at Gavin with his heads in his hands, eyelashes fluttering overdramatically. "Terribly sorry Señor Pinkjacket. What would you enjoy this evening?" (Oh god he was wearing his pink sweatshirt why why why say something clever)

"It's not pink, it's lightish red." (Nice save.)

M.A. Guy's eyebrows shot up as his spine lazily elongated. He had a shit-eating grin on his face. "So it's not pink, it's just the exact definition of pink."

Ray cleared his throat, clearly a bit awkward caught between the newfound rancor. "D'ya want the usual Gav?"

Gavin jumped. He seemed to be affected by a mysterious illness that made him completely amnesic in regards to Ray's existence. "Yeah Ray. Tuesday ususal'd be top." He worried his lip between his teeth, accidentally piercing it and wincing, tongue darting out to touch the new sore. "Sonuva-"

He sucked at the newly-formed hole as Ray scooped a double helping of cookie dough onto a sugar cone, running the silver scooper under water between each helping. M.A.G., seemingly bored out of his mind, wandered away to tidy the various fixings, straightening ladles and generally trying to make everything look nice and straight on the faux-marble counter.

Ray coughed. "Do you uh, need cherry tonight?" Gavin gave a small nod and Ray went in the back. M.A.G. watched the supply door swing from his station at the toppings, confused.

"Looks like I prettied up this freakin' cherry ladle for nothing. Now I feel completely under appreciated." He gave an annoyed sigh at the swinging door to the back room. He tapped his foot, irritated. It seemed to Gavin that M.A.G. wasn't having the best of nights. Upon closer inspection (that had absolutely nothing to do with looking at his face already), he seemed to have heavy bags under his eyes.

Gavin's mouth surprised him by asking "Whatever will you do now?"

M.A.G looked at him, surprised, but his mouth moved into a wicked grin. Gavin wasn't sure whether to regret his previous statement. "For one, I've decided to leave this fucker," he pointed at the gloppy cherry sauce, "He no longer excites me. The spark has gone out." He pushed away the ladle with a fingertip, moving it from its straightened companions. "Nothing left to do but adulterate, I suppose."

"With the hot fudge or the marshmallow?"

"The gummi bears probably. I like 'em tough."

"That says some odd things about your cherry sauce."

M.A.G. laughed, almost properly giggling. They were both wearing stupid smiles, Gavin leaning on the counter and M.A.G. behind the Plexiglas sneeze protector for the toppings. Gavin thought he had an excellent laugh.

Now that Gavin had some time to properly look at him, Mystery Guy really was adorable. His hair was brow- wait, red? Auburn? A pretty colour anyway, woven into a multitude of curls that framed his face. His skin was pale, like, paler than Gavin's. He had a smattering of freckles across his adorable nose, partially covered by his thin-rimmed glasses. His nose was crinkled from his laugh, and his lips-

Gavin just realized they were saying words.

"-re you staring at weirdo? Do I have something on my face?"

Gavin flushed and pulled back. Oh wow they were close, when did he get so close? "Oh- W-well I-I just-" Wasn't there supposed to be glass there or something? He watched the heel of M.A.G.'s hand swipe at his chin, trying to remove an imaginary spot.

He was saved from explanation by Ray's splashy arrival from the back. "X-Ray to the rescue!" He presented Gavin his cone with a flourish and went over to the register to ring up his purchase, not seeming to register the awkward atmosphere. Gavin followed after him, eyes cast on his own ratty sneakers. He wordlessly handed Ray his exact $4.39 and only offered a nervous giggle and a deeper shade of red when he saw Ray raise an eyebrow at him. "So X-Ray, did Geoff say anything about needing me in the next week?"

"Not that I know of. You know the meeting's tomorrow, right?"

Gavin scoffed. "I'm not an idiot, Ray."

"Coulda fooled me."

After Gavin's money was sorted Ray searched around the desk for something then snapped in M.A.G.'s direction. "Rookie! I need a pen."

Ray simply received a stare. Ray and Gavin were both frozen at the suddenly very intense look on M.A.G.'s face. A moment later, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a ballpoint pen. He walked slowly towards Ray, placed it down with a clack that seemed to resonate for miles.

"Fucking read my lips when I tell you I will fucking. _Murder you_. Do _not_  call me Rookie."

Ray and Gavin looked at him, then each other, then slowly they turned their attention at the pen. The receipt buzzed out of the register. M.A.G. seemed to suddenly realize his behavior and pinched his face, sighing. "Sorry about that. I just- At my last job-" He made a flailing gesture of apology. "Let's just say that electricians-"

"Say no more. Please." Ray tore off the receipt and scribbled something before handing it to Gavin. "If it makes you act like that, we're probably better off not knowing." M.A.G. held his elbow and still had his palm on his face. Gavin licked the sore spot on his lip again. The cherry sauce oozed over into his hand.

"Erm- Sorry. I'm Gavin by the way. Hope to, ah, see you around?"

M.A.G. peeked through his fingers and pulled down his hand. He saw Gavin's goofy smile and gave a small chuckle seemingly despite himself. His arms were crossed now and he shook his head. "Sorry about this. It's been... Kinda a tough fucking month." His cheeks were lightish red with shame, and Gavin now took notice of just how deep the bags underneath his eyes were. Gavin gave one last big smile (wow his laugh that's really cute I need to hear that again or maybe forever), waved a goodbye to Ray and moved to the door, cherry topping leaking on the back of his palm.

"Ah, damn..."

He licked it off his hand as the bell tinged again when he left. Once he was illuminated only by the faintest glow of streetlights, he realized he still held the receipt in his hand. He de-crumpled it and looked Ray's scrawl as he took a bite of cookie dough.

(His name is Michael)

Gavin's face burned in the darkness, white teeth full on display.

* * *

Michael watched the weird guy's (Gavin, he has a name that's not Mysterious Scruffy Guy) back. He sighed as he watched him lick his hand, stumble a bit and trip the bell. He turned to Ray.

"Why did you get cherry from the back? We have plenty right here."

"What do you- Oh."

"Oh what?"

"Geoff never got the chance to ah, train you huh? Coach you on the nighttime clientele."

"Well, when I showed up for this, he had on very dark sunglasses and told me in unkind terms to shove off. I don't mean to say anything, but I think his grumpy mood was from drinkies gone wrong."

"Heh. Sounds about right. Well, you'll learn soon enough."

"Do I wanna know?"

"No, but you have to eventually."

* * *

"'M back Gus."

"Where the hell have you been?"

"Geoff's."

"Dammit Gavin, the fucking meeting is scheduled for next week!"

"Yea, I know."

"Why do we even have a schedule if no one is going to-"

"Heeey, Gavvers looks happy tonight. What's up with that?"

"Don't know, don't care. Will everyone shut up so we can start this thing?"

"Alright Mr. Grumpybear."

"Finish that thing or throw it away, you're leaking everywhere."

"But Guuuuuuuuuuuu-"

"Shut the fuck up."

*~*~*~*


	2. Chapter 2

 

Michael knew who Geoff Ramsey was, at least in theory. They had spoken over the phone for an interview and had roughly 10 to 15 seconds of face-to-face contact when Geoff slapped the keys into Michael's hands and told him not to kill himself before slinking off into the distant night, sunglasses on his face and hand to his temple.

Michael definitely knew three things about the man: Geoff owned the shop where he was employed, Geoff liked to drink, and Geoff loved his wife.

Now he can add a fourth item to the list: Geoff had a laugh that could cure cancer that burned when directed at you.

He was currently curing several cases of leukemia leaning over the counter, laughing so hard he could barely stand up. The few customers that were present in the early morning seemed to be used to this phenomenon and went about their cone-licking business, but Michael had yet to build up a tolerance. His face was bright red with embarrassment, and when he looked to Ray for possible support he found him turned away, desperately trying to stifle his own laughter.

Geoff wiped away a few final tears. "Oh man, that is funny as dicks. He bit his own fucking lip?" Ray nodded and Geoff went into a smaller, slightly less hysterical bout of laughter. "So, when are we gonna hear wedding bells, hmm?"

"You shut the fuck up." Michael grumbled, wiping down the counter, finding a particularly stubborn spot of hot fudge.

"Which one is gonna be the bride?"

Man, that spot would just not come out.

"Probably Michael." Chimed in Ray. "Vav that that whole goofy husband look about him."

Man, this spot was gonna be harder to get out if this line of conversation continued.

"I bet he was besotted as dicks dude."

"Oh--" he snorted, "--man Michael, you'll look--" _snrk_  "--lovely in white."

Man, Geoff's blood would look lovely against the white marble. A new crack in Ray's skull might be nice too, to match the way he's cracking up and things that are not funny to anyone with a two working brain cells to fit together.

Before Michael had time to scan his mental Rolodex of potential body dumping sites, the welcome bell's jangle and a loud, curly-haired presence came through the plexiglass door.

"What's up sluts? Burnie is in the building!"

He was greeted by a hearty finger from Geoff and a slight wave from Ray. In one hand was a blue and white cooler which he hefted onto the counter with ease. "How'd the New Guy do?"

Michael bristled at the nickname. "The 'New Guy' is standing right here."

"From what I can tell, fine." Geoff twirled his mustache absentmindedly, steadfastly ignoring Michael. "Any complaints Ray?"

"Not really" He shrugged, counting money in the register. "He managed to shut up Gavin for a bit, so that was nice."

Geoff launched into a new round of laughter. "Yeah, wedding bells are on the horizon, I'm tellin ya." He learned into Burnie, hand raised to mimic a conspiratorial whisper. "Ray here tells me our little Gavvy-Wavvy was leaning in to ki--"

Michael threw his rag at Geoff, too pissed to worry about the repercussions. Geoff just burst into another round of laughter. "Nothing happened! Jeez, dude looked high as balls and just-- I was ready to punch him in his--" Michael struggled to think of any detail that might absolve him, but his mental hands only grasped at the color of Scruffy's ( _Gavin's_ ) eyes and the cadence of his stupid British voice. He gave a huff at his mind's slippery and traitorous fingers and stomped into the back room to grab a cleaner dishcloth, everyone's laughter a soundtrack to his departure.

The door swung shut behind him and he stopped, realizing he didn't quite know where the towels were kept. Fortuitously, the box of rags was at eye-level. He took a random rag from the tattered cardboard box left to the right of the door, but caught himself and grabbed a maroon towel before catching a breath and readjusting his apron, smoothing out invisible wrinkles.

He needed to calm down and keep this job. This was his first goddamn day, and sure his antics might have been _amusing_  to Geoff, but that was no guarantee of job security. He still verbally abused a customer, even if said customer was a complete asshole.

Michael winced. He didn't know that for sure anyway. Mysterious ScruffY Guy ( _Gavin_  was his name, whose fucking name was _Gavin_  how fucking _pompous british ass_ ) could be a goddamn fucking hero for all Michael knew. Michael dunked the rag into the soap bucket. Maybe M.S.G. worked at an orphanage or something. Maybe he owned puppies. Maybe he _owned_  a puppy orphanage.

Or he could be a drug-using serial killer.

He scoffed at himself. All of this was ridiculous. Chances are they would never meet again. ( _Tuesday Usual_  a voice in his head whispered, he has a _Tuesday Usual_ ) He straightened his back, wrung out his new red towel with a vengeance and walked through the swinging door, head held high, whereupon he was met with three intense stares. He immediately prickled under the scrutiny and considered walking the two feet back into the back to redo what was meant to be a triumphant entrance.

Geoff stretched out a hand. "Wait Michael, did I give you..." He looked around the shop, then to what seemed to be a slightly aggrieved Burnie and a slightly guilty-looking Ray. He and Burnie had a conversation through their eyebrows, looking back to Michael, and then conferring quickly again. When their eyebrows reached a decision, Geoff slapped Ray on the back.

"You'll be okay manning the register, eh?"

Ray nodded, and mouthed "sorry" to Michael. Burnie walked around the counter, striding up to Michael the way a lion would to a wounded Gazelle. He clapped a hand on Michael's shoulder and walked him into the back. "You and I need to have a little chat Mikey."

Michael felt his blood boil under his skin but kept on walking. He heard the plastic cooler skid off the counter and Geoff's footsteps following after them. He tried to tell himself that all of the tension he was feeling was silly. After all, what's the worst that could happen here?

Oh right. The whole firing thing. That could happen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not sure if I'll add more than this. I still have all of the ideas and plot things rattling around in my brain, so maybe? Anyway this was already written and has been sitting around for too long for being something nat least ok.

**Author's Note:**

> First story!


End file.
